


Lamb With Bull Horns

by Voidromeda



Category: Starfighter (Comic), Starfighter Eclipse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, M/M, Modern Era, Slow Build, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidromeda/pseuds/Voidromeda
Summary: University life is going to be hectic, Jules is well aware of it, and he doesn't want to be alone in his flat when the semester begins. With that in mind, he puts up an ad hoping to find a roommate who goes to the same university as him just so that he has someone to talk to and share the burden of the flat with to avoid going insane.Ethan hopes to find a place to rent, temporarily, to lessen the commute from his home to his university, because there is absolutely no way he is going to be able to wake up that early for all of his classes and walking will be better for his health anyway. By luck, he manages to score an extremely cheap flat that is only fifteen minutes away from the campus, and it helps that his roommate is gorgeous too.This is a story of two idiots and their struggle to form a relationship with each other.





	1. Year 1 Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SouthernLights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernLights/gifts).



> Names of the characters:
> 
> \- Phobos is Jules  
> \- Porthos is Adam  
> \- Athos is Robert/Rob  
> \- Ethos is Maes  
> \- Deimos is Elisei
> 
> Abel and Cain use their canon names [Ethan and Alexei].
> 
> If any other name changes come up, I'll make sure to mention them at the start of the fic.
> 
> This is written for Madison from the discord, and I will gift this to her once I'm awake enough to find her AO3.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to move in?” Adam says with a drawl, fingers tapping away at his – ugh – android phone screen as he texts Rob (who names their kid Robert? He still isn't over that) about one thing or another. “I’m pretty sure it’s easier to deal with than a rando, just saying.”

Jules clicks his tongue, fingers stilling above his laptop keyboard before he goes back to tapping out the last few bits of info for his ad. With a near destructive slam of the period key, he scrapes his nails against his laptop before he is grabbing onto his mouse and stabbing onto the ‘publish’ button. He clicks his tongue again, grabs his slipper, and turns around to throw it over at Adam.

Annoyingly, he dodges.

“If I actually had to live with you and see your ugly face every day, I’d probably go nuts,” Jules says smoothly, hands rubbing at his aching eyes before he turns around to face Adam after gently closing his laptop. “I just need someone that isn’t you in this luxury nightmare.”

Adam peeks up from his phone, a smile curling on his lips and Jules raises an eyebrow. “What’s gotten you so happy? Making fun of Alice again?”

“Alice fucked off to Ireland and deactivated Facebook, I can’t make fun of her anymore.” Adam taps his phone for a moment, his smile forming into his familiar smirk, “Rob got accepted into our uni.” he says smugly.

Jules snorts as he reaches over for his Gatorade, his fingers dancing on the cap before he unscrews it and takes a big gulp. “I thought he’d never get accepted, how the Hell – ?”

“Me.” Adam interrupts, still sounding infuriatingly smug, and Jules rolls his eyes all the way up to Mars. “I’m an amazing teacher.”

“Sure.”

“I am! I got him in because my teaching skills are otherworldly.”

“Whatever, Adam.” Jules moves over to flop next to Adam on his bed, bouncing a little on the mattress before he rolls over onto his back. “You think a psycho’s gonna come over and kill me thanks to the ad?”

“If you bitch enough?” he considers it for a second as he taps his phone against his lower lip, then nods. “Probably.”

Jules hums, eyes drifting shut when Adam attempts to run his hand through his hair as it fans out around him. “Probably. You remember Greg? He used to threaten to kill me and then he'd buy me apple juice every day.”

“I thought he was buying you alcoholic cider, honestly.”

“Never would, said he was allergic to alcohol.”

“Oh.” Adam blinks. “Is that actually an allergy?” Jules shrugs – or well, tries to. “Well, you learn something new every day. And I’m pretty sure the bigger problem was that you were both underage.” there is a pregnant pause, then, “I miss Greg.”

Jules sighs. “Me too. I hope the jerk’s in a good place now.”

“Speaking of, we should watch that show actually.”

“Probably.” he swats Adam’s hand away and sits up, stretching and cracking his back loudly. “Hey, bitch tits, outta my flat.” Adam huffs, but he jams his phone in his pocket anyway and slides off of his bed. He ogles the way Adam’s leggings hug his ass before he is mourning the loss of that fantastic sight as he walks past Jules.

“I’m off.”

“Bye, bitch tits.”

“See ya, dick cheese.”

His flat falls unbearably quiet after Adam leaves, heading off to his own flat [in the same building], and the only sound is the door closing with a gentle click. His mind wanders back to Adam’s offer, which has been given to him five times now, and Jules clicks his tongue a few times before he runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head.

He has a few weeks before uni starts and the printout of his schedule mocks him as it lays innocuously on his desk. He glares at it, brows pinching together before he gets off of his bed and finds himself wandering around aimlessly in his flat. The entire thing has a pale, cream theme to it; the sofa is a white thing that edges just barely on being a pale peach and the coffee table is made up of a pleasing glass surface with pale legs.

Pictures of him, Adam, and his mom line the walls, flamed with a light-wooden frame, the carpet a soft white. The kitchen, as small as it is, also reflects the cream-peach-white colour scheme, as does his room. The bathroom is the only unfortunate eye sore, being a generic blue, and the guestroom – soon to be second bedroom – is annoyingly empty, save for a bed and drawer.

Hopefully, a roommate will come along and give beautiful life to that painfully drab room, but Jules isn’t holding his breath on it. The website will also probably take some time to actually update with his post and will probably incorrectly date it, but whatever. He thinks he has some time to sit down and do whatever, so might as well.

He stretches his arms once more then plops down onto his sofa, sinking in and relaxing before he turns the TV and DVD player on to binge watch _Desperate Housewives_ again and bitch at Adam about it in excruciatingly details over text while he does.

Yet, just as he is about to start watching, he hears a jingle from his phone on the coffee table, and he lifts it up. He raises his eyebrow when he sees that it isn’t a text from Adam, and he puts the first episode of _Desperate Housewives_ on pause to see who has texted him, and _why._

* * *

“No, no, it’s okay, mom – calm down, it’s okay.” Ethan sighs, his right hand rubbing his face while the left holds his phone against his ear, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and he leans against the kitchen counter while his mother rambles away in his ear. On the stove to his right, a pot of spaghetti noodles boils, and to his left is his tablet open on a tab where he has been looking for places to stay.

He sighs as his mother’s voice gets even more high-pitched in his ear, the sound thankfully lost on her or else he will not have heard the end of that, and he bends over to tap at the screen with his right hand, refreshing the page while his mother rambles. He doesn’t even know what she is going on about this time, her concern and worry going off the charts – like always – and Ethan just scrolls down the website for a bit before he clicks back onto twitter and retweets a few bunny videos.

If Ethan concentrates a little he thinks he can hear his mother’s hysterical worry over him moving and living on his own [despite her constantly traveling thanks to work] and he tries not to slam his head onto the kitchen counter. “Mom, it’s going to be okay. I swear.” he interjects, stopping one of her more mumbled ramblings, and Ethan sighs. “I just need a place to live close to uni, okay mom? Then when uni’s over I’ll come back home,” _probably,_ “and then you won’t have to worry until I have to move out again.”

Before she can start wailing, Ethan hastily continues on, “I can’t live with you forever, mom, right? I have to move out eventually. And it’s gonna be okay! Uni’s in one of the safest neighborhoods, so…”

_“Are you sure? We have a driver, he can just take you there, honey. You don’t have to move out just yet… and – and if you –”_

“Mom,” Ethan cuts in harshly, “our home is _almost two hours away from uni._ I’d have to be up super early and I’d come home super late if I stayed here. No more, okay? I just want to get to uni on time and not have to worry about commute.”

_“But…”_

“I’m not going to ask David to drive me there. He barely gets enough sleep, mom. Have you seen him lately? He puts pandas to shame. It’s going to be okay, mom, I’m still looking,” he refreshes the page of the website once more, his eyes rolling as his mother tries to make another argument to convince him not to move out, and he sighs, “I’ll make a compromise, okay, mom? If I don’t find a place by tomorrow, I’ll…”

His eyes catch onto an ad put up by someone called _Jules Beaulieu,_ his voice getting stuck in his throat when he reads the ad, the requirements, the rent pay, and sees where the place is. “Mom, I’ll call you back – I think I found a place.” before she can sputter out a reply, he is hanging up on her and putting his phone on airplane mode to avoid any further calls, and he is lifting his tablet up and turning it vertical so that he can read over the ad.

The place is only fifteen minutes away from the university, and the only requirements Jules Beaulieu even has is that the roommate be clean, not come home late drunk, and to just _talk_ to the guy even if all they do is argue. Friends coming over is fine, but parties are not, and the rent… _the rent is seven-hundred dollars a month._

 _‘I don’t need the money.’_ is the justification for the price, _‘and I’m doing this for company. I’d prefer a university student to OO uni, so I’ll be asking for proof. First come first serve, and the first person to message me is the only person. That’s all.’_

He checks the post time.

_One minute ago._

He nearly breaks his tablet with how hard he slams it back onto the counter, horizontal, and Ethan is typing away frantically a message to Jules Beaulieu to see if he gets accepted. His heart hammers against his chest as he types out a response to the offer and sends out the message and waits, anxiously, for a response.

A few minutes pass and Ethan flushes, hands running through his hair, and he nearly shoves his tablet off of the kitchen counter when he gets a notification pop-up from the website. The jingle is loud, and Ethan laughs loudly when he sees the response.

_‘Lucky you.’_

The next few messages are him proving that he is going to the nearby university, proving that he is in fact eighteen, and that he won’t be doing anything to ruin anything in Jules’ flat. The guy seems like a bitch (a comment he keeps to himself), but that is something that Ethan is willing to put up with if it means he gets easier commute to university.

 _‘Come here in the next three days so that we can get you settled in.’_ is what Jules says after all of the messaging, and Ethan whoops loudly in victory.

The victory jingle he starts singing out is quickly cut short when he hears the telltale sounds of something boiling over, and he lets out a loud _“Oh, fuck!”_ when he remembers the spaghetti. Somehow he manages to salvage the noodles, he won’t ask how, even if they taste a bit worse than usual thanks to him just ignoring them in that damn pot for too long, but he can’t even bring himself to be upset.

Tonight, he is going to have to pack up super quick so that he can move to the new place, has to bring his university card with him and make sure not to pack too much so that when David gets him there (sorry David) he doesn’t have a lot to carry out. He has to look super good too – Beaulieu is at least nice enough to put up pictures of himself alongside the photos of his frankly nice flat so that people can identify him, and the man is _gorgeous._ Small, dark blue eyes, a soft, round face framed by his soft-looking, long blond hair, and plush lips looking absolutely kissable.

Well, if he ends up being narcissistic, Ethan can definitely see why.

With a plan in mind, he jams overcooked spaghetti into his mouth and grins widely, his heart tightening up in his chest and his stomach knotty. He can do this. He can _definitely_ do this.

* * *

It is on a Sunday morning that Jules finds himself painfully awake at seven in the morning. His new roommate sends him a text saying that he will probably be here super early, at around eight or so, and Jules hates his fucking guts already. On the other hand, the massive amount of typos in all of his texts (which, thanks to the website, are unable to be edited) makes him want to laugh.

So the situation is rather awkward.

He pours himself some cereal because he cannot be bothered to cook breakfast right now, and he accidentally bites down on his spoon, closes his eyes, and prays to God while his grip on the bowl tightens. The milk sloshes a little bit but doesn’t spill, and Jules goes back to _slowly_ eating his cereal.

His teeth ring, but not as badly after ten minutes. He busies himself by trying to do some meditation in the morning, a good five minutes of it at the very least, then he goes to his bedroom to grab one of the many terrible romance books that Adam has bought him to read. By the time eight-thirty hits, Jules’ cells have all retreated into themselves thanks to the book.

There is a ring at his door and he gingerly puts the book on the coffee table, pads over to the door, and opens it halfway.

He blinks.

A platinum blond with a single streak of grey in his hair greets him, cheeks red and eyes a bit glossy with sleep; shadows surround his gun-grey eyes, a shaky grin flickers onto his lips, and he is dressed in… all brown. A really, really dark shade of brown, in baggy clothes that do nothing to complement his figure.

He scrunches his nose. “I think you’ve gotten the wrong flat,” Jules says, even as he gets the niggling sensation that he has seen that face before, “I’m waiting for my roommate, not a fashionless hobo.”

The expression on the stranger falls; his eyes go wide with shock, and his mouth is pressed into a flat line. He puts his bag down, reaches for his wallet, and then brings… a… student… ID out…

He offers it to Jules, who brings out his iPhone. He stares at the photo on his phone, then looks at the ID in his hand, then back at his phone. His eyes flicker up to who he now knows is Ethan, who stares back at him, and he looks back down. The student ID sits heavy in his hand, and he silently gives it back to Ethan.

They stare at each other.

Jules shuffles aside and lets him in, and Ethan grabs his bag and sets it aside inside of the flat before he is going back and grabbing another bag from the hallway. Jules gestures at him to sit on the sofa and Ethan silently follows the order, his thumbs twiddling against each other and his shoulders sink down.

He sits next to him and crosses his legs, hands clasping together and then they rest on top of his knee, and he clears his throat. “So,” Jules begins, “I’m Jules Beaulieu.” he watches Ethan cough into the crook of his elbow before he is then grabbing at his pants, face a burning, bright red, and Jules rubs at his own nose.

“Ethan Miller.” he says finally, and Jules nods. “Nice to meet you?”

“A pleasure.”

They both look at each other and then immediately look away, and Jules can already tell that this is going to be a hell of a four-year term.


	2. Year 1 Chapter 2

The few weeks leading up to going to university is… almost painful. They, as in Abel and he, spend most of their time negotiating rules with each other alongside a few compromises; the apartment is pet friendly (and expensive as a result of it) even though Jules himself doesn’t want one, and that is (apparently; he learns this post-mortem) one of the many things that has attracted Ethan here. He has some sort of lizard pet, an iguana he thinks, and he wants to keep it In Jules’ apartment because he can’t (he reads that as ‘doesn’t want to’) find anyone to take care of “Newton”.

He promises Jules that his iguana won't bother him, so after a long time spent trying to convince Jules, he gives in and allows Ethan the iguana as long as it stays with him at all times. Establishing the house rules comes after that little compromise. He repeats some of the rules from the ad and then a few new ones: no sex in the flat, period. No making out or any form of PDA or whatever in the flat; he doesn’t want to see it. He has allowed the iguana, but no other pets.

Then everything else is just boring paperwork. After all that is said and done, they are only left with one thing: the absolute awkwardness present since day one. _‘Well, at least he’s somewhat talking to me.’_ Jules thinks a morning before university is going to start, green tea in his right-hand and black coffee in his left handing it over to an exhausted Ethan who takes it wordlessly. The shadows around his eyes are dark and heavy, his fingers gripping the mug too tightly. “You go to OO university, right?” Jules asks while Ethan drinks his coffee like an alcoholic chugging vodka, and he sips his own tea lightly.

“Hm? Oh. Oh yeah, yeah. Physics major. You?” he says after an agonizingly long few seconds of silence that makes Jules want to slap him.

“Design major.” Jules says. “Hoping to double in organic chemistry too.”

Ethan blinks, the mug obscuring his face half-way, and he tilts his head curiously. “Why design and organic chemistry? Doesn’t that sound weird to you?” Jules scoffs as he traces the rim of his mug with his index finger.

“Not really,” Jules says smoothly, his eyes focusing on the liquid in his mug, “but you wouldn’t understand if I told you."

Ethan’s gaze burns into the back of his head when Jules turns around and silence follows after Jules as he finishes his tea and washes his mug after. He is quick to leave Ethan to his own devices and change within record time.

When he steps out of his bedroom, his bag hanging off his shoulder and his face lacking his usual makeup. “I’m off,” Jules announces, passing by an Ethan holding onto an empty mug while sitting on his sofa.

“Take care.” Ethan says, his eyes focus on Jules once more, and he pauses right before the door. He looks back at Ethan, who looks down to the coffee table before he slowly drags his gaze back up to Jules. They gaze into each other for only a breath before Jules is breaking away and leaving his flat with a gentle click of the door.

He sends Adam a quick text telling him that he’s coming over, his grip on his iPhone loose and his left-hand fiddles with his earbuds while he stands in front of the elevator. There is a quick response of Adam telling him to just wait at the first floor, but Jules is already standing at his door and knocking on it, his foot tapping in wait. Adam’s exasperated expression greets him the moment the door swings open, his lips glossy and his eyeliner on-point as always.

“Why do you never just wait for me?” Adam asks, his words lacking heat, and his smirk tugs back onto his lips. “You can’t even blame me for being two minutes late to the cinema now.” Adam points out, and Jules rolls his eyes.

He snaps his fingers. “The cinema doesn’t even open up at eight A.M, you dick. At least, I don’t think so.” Jules barks out, his hand clasping onto Adam’s and he begins to drag him away after his friend has locked the door to his flat. “We’re going to give ourselves a tour of the uni.” Jules chirps out and he can practically hear the eye roll in Adam’s sigh.

The university is surprisingly crowded when they get there. Adam blinks at the sight of students, professors, businessmen, parents (oddly enough in Jules' opinion), and university employees, while Jules himself is looking at the campus map on his phone and peering at the signs on the campus walk.

“That’s the engineering building over there.” Adam comments blankly, “one of my classes is in the basement there.”

“Physics.”

“Yu~p. Help me find the building for my lab.”

They spend the next half-hour or so re-familiarizing themselves with the campus after orientation, mostly talking about their classes and the reviews on their respective professors online. “I hear my physics prof hates answering questions. You mind being my study partner on it? Just in case.” Adam says

“Yuck. I mean, I will be, but you gotta be my chem study partner, then. And also, yuck.” Adam chuckles. “Speaking of, Ethan’s also a physics major. I finally asked him today.”

Adam runs his hand through his hair, playing with the tuft at the front, and Jules has to tamp down the urge to play with the back of his neck and then his hair. “I might run into him. Do you know his schedule?” Jules shakes his head and Adam hums. “Well, I’ll tell you if I run into him. How are things with the new roomie anyway?”

Jules looks back down at his phone and he chews on his lower lip as he looks for the East OOO Theatres building, his hand once more fiddling with his earbuds before he sighs. “It’s… awkward. I just can’t get along with him because he's like a skittish kitten, but he still talks to me so at least he isn’t being that much of a coward about it.”

“You really need better control over your mouth,” Adam says, the words more of a song than an actual sentence, and Jules groans. This is the millionth time that he hears that sentence now the past few weeks leading up to the first day of university, and Jules glares up in response to the smug grin dancing on Adam’s face. “I told you that you should’ve just had me as your roommate.”

He snorts. “You would have murdered me before week one even ended, and then you’d get arrested because you’d hand yourself in. Can you imagine the headlines? 'Man murdered by best friend because he was so insufferable'.” he sighs immediately after, however, and Adam eyes him curiously.

“I feel like –” he pauses for a second, Adam’s gaze warm and his lips twitching into a tiny, near unnoticeable smile, and Jules looks down at his phone. He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep going around, then head back and buy some Taco Bell or something.”

“You _hate_ Taco Bell. Why not just go to the nearby Chipotle?”

“I’m in the mood for some stomach ache and two hours in the bathroom, so we’re going to go to Taco Bell.”

 

 

They end up not going to Taco Bell and instead go to some smaller, hole-in-the-wall Mexican place that Adam seems to like a lot. His stomach doesn’t hurt after it, so Jules can begrudgingly admit that it is better than whatever it is that he wants to impulse buy from Taco Bell. Adam walks him up to his flat then waves goodbye as he heads off to the elevator, and Jules swings his earbuds in a circle before he pulls them out of his phone and shoves them into his pocket. He unlocks the door and toes his shoes off, shoving them into a corner, and he straightens his back up while tapping on his bag's strap.

“Ethan, are you here?” there is some shuffling from the bedroom next to his own and Ethan pokes his head out soon enough, his hair a mess and his eyes looking right through him. “Were you sleeping?” he asks as he walks in, drops his bag next to the coffee table, and Ethan sheepishly looks away. “Sorry for waking you up.”

He shakes his head, stepping out further from his door while he pinches the bridge of his nose and then rubs at his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway. Do you have any books I could read?”

“I have a lot of terrible romance novels.” Jules says and Ethan squints at him, though his expression is quick to break when he has to yawn and rub at his eyes to try and force himself awake. “Adam bought me a bulk when they were on sale, and they can either bore you to death or disgust you so much you can’t sleep.” he walks past Ethan and into his own room, ignoring whatever protests the other has for him, and grabs a random book off of the shelf – conveniently, a boring one – and heads back just to shove the book in his hands.

“This is the most tolerable and, because of that, boringly competent. It’ll get you to sleep.” Jules says sharply and Ethan flinches. “Have you eaten yet?” he gets a shake of his head as an answer and he clicks his tongue. “The fridge is stocked. You do know how to cook, don’t you?”

Ethan purses his lips. “… yes, I do. Don’t worry, I won’t burn the building down.” he grits out, and Jules blinks. His hand is still grabbing at the book in Ethan’s hands, his grip loose and hesitant on the spine of the book, and Ethan is looking over to his side instead of into Jules’ eyes. The corner of his lips twitches before Ethan lets one hand go of the book and presses it against his mouth to cough into his palm.

Jules lets go of the book. Clears his throat. “I meant – if you didn’t know how to cook, I could do it for you.” Ethan looks over at him, and Jules wordlessly reaches over for the tissue box on the coffee table and offers it to the other man, who shifts the book around under his armpit and wipes his hands clean with the tissue. “I’m going to be heading out in an hour.”

“Again?” Ethan asks, his gaze as steady as steel on Jules. His breath stutters in his chest and he sharply looks away. “Be safe, and thanks for the book.”

“Do you want anything?” Jules asks. Ethan shakes his head again, the book still underneath his armpit, and Jules presses his palms together. “I’ll be in my room. If you need anything, knock, and when I’m out – you have my number, right?” he nods just as Ethan does, and presses his indexes together while his other fingers curl into fists. “Okay. You take care of yourself.”

He retreats into his room with a quiet click and he can hear the muffled sound of Ethan’s door closing as well. He grabs his phone again and his fingers hover over Adam’s contact info (lovingly saved as ‘Snob Slut’ by the very man himself) before he then texts Rob instead, asking him if he wants to go to the mall nearby, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he gets an instantaneous ‘sure! :D’ from the other.

The bed bounces a little as he flops face-first into it and his body itches from discomfort as he has yet to change out of his clothes. The only thing he does to ease that itch is throw his leggings off and he immediately curls into a ball on his bed, his phone’s locked screen staring at him as he brings it up every time it goes black. He sighs deeply.

Today is going to be… _a day_ alright.


	3. Year 1 Chapter 3

In the first week of university, Jules thinks he is in actual Hell. The class sizes are huge, far larger than he anticipates, and the amount of microphone troubles or volume issues that his professors are having seem almost _unreal._ He has five [though technically one of them is year long] courses each semester - four of the five are three credit courses and one of them is a six credit course at night, which means that he has taken eighteen credits in total, and already he can feel the exhaustion settling in.

The one thing he can pat himself on the back for is that at the very least he has set it up that he has a two hour break before his evening class, so he can go back home and die for half an hour on his bed then come back to life to continue coursework. He can tell that Ethan has a similarly heavy schedule, given how Jules wakes up on the Monday of the first week to the sound of panicked screeching. He didn’t say anything to Ethan at the time, because the guy just apologizes to him without Jules bringing anything up before he is then rushing off to a class that he is late to.

When he checks the time he realizes that it is eight-thirty two in the morning. The other thing he realizes is that it is raining and that the two umbrellas he has set aside after checking the weather last night are still sitting next to the door. He rubs his wet hair with his towel after he finishes showering, his eyes focusing in on the front door of his flat before he gets ready to begin the week himself.

It is now a Friday night and Jules is now finishing up his three-hour long class, his left eye twitching, and he fidgets with the phone in his hand before he sighs and looks out at the raining sky. The rain drops slide down the glass doors of the university building, all of them forming tiny rivers along the surface, and he shifts his bag around and opens his umbrella before he is pushing out into the open.

The sound of rain echoes in his ears and Jules looks up at the darkened, cloudy sky, his feet taking him back home without him even thinking about it and he shivers from the cold. Fuck him for not bringing a thicker -

Something drapes around his shoulders and Jules jolts in surprise, turns to his right, and his eyes widen when he looks up into a familiar face. Ethan smiles sheepishly at him, his own umbrella under his armpit and his body a bit wet from the rain. “Sorry,” he says when Jules eyes him up and down with his body drawn into himself, “um, I came back home earlier today because I realized I forgot my own jacket, then I realized I saw yours and - and Adam told me we - as in, you, and me, we had the same… psyche class? Why did you take it?”

“Because I wanted to.” he bites out, his eyes narrowing at Ethan at what he has said… before his words actually register in his mind. Jules straightens up after the realization, his brows furrowing. “How come I didn’t see you in her class today, then?”

“I sat at the back.” Ethan says, and Jules relaxes almost immediately and he nods in understanding - he likes to sit at the very front and put his recorder on the table next to the podium, and it’s easier to take notes at the very front too. “I’m sorry for scaring you, but I thought it’d be cold and the walk back isn’t long, but it’ll feel terrible without a jacket, so, I-”

“It’s fine.” Jules snaps out. “Stop being so jittery, I’m not going to hit you.” Ethan’s mouth presses shut and into a flat line, his gaze even on Jules and he shrugs. “It was very thoughtful of you,” he says immediately after, remembering his manners, “and I appreciate it, but please just call out to me next time. I could have slapped you.”

Ethan flinches. “Yeah, I’m - yeah. It’s no problem.” he looks like he is about to step away, his free hand going down for his umbrella, and Jules reaches out and places his own hand on his wrist to stop him. Ethan looks at him curiously.

“Hold my umbrella for me, I’m dying from the cold.” he says and Ethan’s lips form into a small, silent _‘oh’_ before he reaches up instead to grab at Jules’ umbrella. He lets go and drops his bag down, quickly sliding his jacket on before he is then picking his bag back up and he stares at Ethan for a tiny bit. “Why don’t we walk back home together?” Jules says. “It’s far more convenient than us both holding an umbrella.”

The way he flinches makes Jules frown, his mood souring from the reaction. “I don’t think the umbrella is big enough for the both of us.” he says and Jules shakes head. Before Ethan can do anything, he reaches out and swipes the umbrella away from him. “Hey!”

“I’m not going to have you do something unnecessary when we can just do it the easier way.” Jules says curtly and - and that look is back. Ethan stares down at him, expression unreadable and his lips in a flat line, and he looks down at his umbrella in Jules’ grip before he looks back up into his eyes. There is a flash of something in his face, something so quick that Jules blinks and a shy smile takes over it instead.

“Okay, let’s walk back.” Ethan says pleasantly, his grip around the umbrella handle tight and quivering, and Jules looks away. “Try not to slip.”

The university is a fifteen minute away from the flat on a good day - and today isn’t necessarily a good one. Silence quiets the rest of the walk back home and Jules fiddles around with Ethan’s umbrella. The one he has is smaller than Jules’, a bit flimsier too, but fine for a rain like this that isn’t too heavy. He takes in the pattern of the umbrella - a sea-green with jellyfish all over - and plays with the button that opens it up automatically but never once presses down.

No need to make their space even more cramped up, and it is already a smidge difficult trying to keep up with Ethan because of his long strides. The fifteen or so minutes feel like a long, dragging hour by the time they get to the apartment building and its shelter, and Ethan gives him his umbrella back while taking his own without a word once they are standing in front of their flat.

“I’m going to go to sleep.” Ethan says once his shoes are off and set aside, and Jules shrugs. “Goodnight.

“Night.”

 

He spends a few hours that night texting Adam, wanting to know how his day has been because he hasn’t had the time to meet up with him today – so busy, busy, busy, busy, - and it helps distract him from the encounter earlier. He finds himself sighing soon after, a hand running through his hair as he looks at his door and then down at his lap.

 _‘not to sound like a bitch or anything’_ he sends to Adam after a few minutes of silence from his end, _‘but i rly wish ethan didnt keep acting like im going to fucking glock him or something am i rly that scary?’_

 _‘You’re mega aggressive sometimes,’_ is what Adam says, _‘but it what makes you you so don’t change, okay? Ethan’s not supposed to be your friend.’_

He looks at his door again, his phone a heavy weight in the palm of his hand, and the orange filter bathes his face in its supposed ‘warm tone’, trying to force him down into sleep, and Jules ruffles his own hair. _‘i think im gonna sleep now its been a super rough day & i just wanna like sleep & forget everything that hpappened. Nai nai’_

_ ‘Gn.’ _

_‘A man of few words, that Adam.’_ Jules thinks to himself with an eye roll, but he puts his phone aside and curls up into a ball on his side. His fingers curl up loosely, his stare burning into some of the movie posters hidden away in the dark of his room, and it takes him ten minutes before he finally falls asleep.

* * *

Very early morning classes are a mistake, and not even being fifteen minutes away from university will fix the dread he has every time he wakes up. Ethan rubs at his eyes, waking up an hour before morning classes are to start, and he makes sure to feed Newton the moment he wakes up, then he sets about going to the bathroom, getting breakfast, then heading out to university.

The weeks sort of blur together like this; the labs are the most annoying part of having to adjust to the schedule and his lab partner, Alexei, has a fuse shorter than TNT, and Ethan wonders what he has done in a previous life to turn out so stupid that he makes these types of decisions. He rubs his forehead, the bag on his back heavy with books finally in supply at the bookstore, and now he has three hour long physics labs and online tests and lectures and in-class mini-quizzes and –

University is terrible, Ethan thinks irritably. He just wants to sleep for the rest of his life and maybe die at the ripe age of University Graduate.

“Ethan!” a soft voice calls out to him, breaking him out of his spiral of self-hatred, and he jolts upright with wide eyes and stares at the man before him blankly. “Oh my gosh, I’ve been explaining this concept for the last five minutes – have you even been listening to me?” guiltily, Ethan flushes and he shakes his head. “Oh my goooosh, okay, I’m gonna go over it… **_again._** Listen to me this time, okay?”

The person in question is Maes – his classmate in almost all of his classes, actually, and someone he has met… back when he is a grade three student and Maes is that weird kid who really likes sheep. Meeting him again in university is the single most bewildering thing in the world, but there is some bizarre comfort in seeing that Maes hasn’t really changed much – maybe. He still likes sheep.

He is also still waiting on Ethan to answer him, given the way he is staring at him.

“Sorry, I’m just… stressed.” Ethan says and Maes gives him a look like he both believes him and wants to strangle him. He looks his friend up and down, taking in his short, curly mess of a hair, his wide hazel eyes, and the way his eyebrow arches up in a sort of disbelief that Ethan isn’t managing his stress levels better. “I’m not good at this!” Ethan says defensively and Maes just slowly shakes his head.

He tucks an errant strand of hair behind his ear, and Ethan reaches out to ruffle Maes’ hair and mess it up and he snickers at the offended ‘ _HEY!’_ that escapes his friend. “Don’t do that – oh, whatever, it’s not like I look any different. Do I look any different?”

Ethan inspects him. Seriously. “Nope, your hair is a rat’s nest as always!” he chirps out and Maes smiles up at him, then reaches up to pinch his cheeks hard and Ethan yelps. “Ow, ow, ow ow ow, okay maaaaaahm, maaaaahm, I’m sorry maaaaahm,”

“Why can’t you ever say mom like a normal person?” Maes huffs out, but he lets go eventually and then crosses his arms on the café table, their notebooks and papers all messily sprawled around them, Ethan’s book set in between them because Maes doesn’t want to buy it, and he thinks they must make a silly sight.

They aren’t at the school café, no – they are at a coffee shop at a different street that needs a twenty minute bus-ride, and everyone around them are either old couples or families with young children, and Maes and Ethan are the only stressed looking university students trying to study here. They must definitely make a sight.

The shadows building around Ethan’s constantly drooping eyes and Maes’ messy hair and constantly fiddling with random strands of said hair must make them both look like nervous wrecks, and he is surprised they haven’t been kicked out yet. He suspects it might have something to do with the fact that Ethan keeps going up every half an hour to buy pastries for them both, and sometimes tea or juices depending on what they are feeling like drinking at that specific point in time.

“I’m gonna flunk the test.” Ethan says almost cheerfully, and Maes punches him in the arm. He flinches. “I’m too tired for any of this.”

“Aren’t you getting nine hours of sleep every night?”

“… yeah, but I’m _too tired for any of this.”_

“Jesus dude.”

“I thought you were saying ‘oh my gosh’ to avoid blaspheming God’s name?”

Maes grumbles and punches him again, which Ethan just replies to with an unenthusiastic ow, and he watches as his friend head just smacks down onto his mess of notebooks and papers. “I hate Mr. Polaszki.” Maes groans into his notebook and Ethan sympathetically rubs his back. “I hate him so much. Every time I try to ask him a question he gives me this look like I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“I know I’m not! He’s just terrible at explaining and the books gonna cost me _two hundred with tax!_ Do I look like I have that much spare money just hanging around?” Maes whines into his book and Ethan shushes him gently just so that they avoid the way everyone else looks at them.

“I could buy you the books?” Ethan offers.

Maes pinches his ear this time, and it hurts like a motherfucker. “Okay! Okay – okay, no buying you books, ow, owwwww… leggo!” he rubs at his reddening ear and then resumes rubbing slow, soothing circles on Maes’ back while the other one just lays his head there. “Let’s just continue studying so we can do better with the test, okay?”

“Are you gonna zone out on me again?” Maes asks after he has peeled paper off of his cheeks and he lifts his head up to look at Ethan. “… I know I’m giving you crap for it, but you know you can talk to me about anything going on, right?”

He shrugs helplessly at that. He grabs a mechanical pencil just so that he can tap it against the table surface, and he looks up at the menu for the café. “It’s just… really small troubles, okay? If it gets worse, I’ll tell you about it.”

Maes doesn’t seem okay with that, but when Ethan offers to buy them chicken wraps he relents for now.

He looks out the café window for a second, then excuses himself to go to the bathroom and wash his face and maybe take a fifty-year long piss. Maes tells him to not be a gross idiot, but he slams his head back down onto the table and practically falls asleep then and there and Ethan smiles fondly.

This has helped to distract him from how he feels about Jules, however. Which is all that he can ask for.


	4. Year 1 Chapter 4

If there is one thing that Jules will always pride himself on it is the fact that he is a very, very studious student when he wants to be. So far, he passes his first semester’s psyche tests with an eighty-two and eighty-five, and his other design classes are at the very high grades, then every other test afterwards he breezes through. He helps Adam study for his physics class sometimes, mostly when it seems that Ethan is too busy with another classmate to study with him, but Jules finds his sessions with Adam becoming fewer and fewer until he learns later that he has a study group with Ethan and someone else.

He knows the other classmate’s name is Maes, who Jules has only seen one picture of and that is about it. The kid is apparently going to be a researcher or something, and Jules sends Adam a very flippant text telling him to ‘wish that Maes kid luck on my behalf’ just to be polite about it before he goes back to his own business.

There are some assignments that he needs to work on, a bunch of online quizzes he wants to get done with immediately, an essay he has to sit down and plan for his online course, and then afterwards he considers watching _Naruto_ or something else just as stupid just to shut his brain down.

His flat is empty right now because Ethan wakes up this morning, apologizes to Jules, then rushes out to make it to the coffee shop on time to study with Maes and Adam this Saturday morning. He doesn’t look Jules’ in the eyes when he talks to him, instead he opts to focus on the ground, and he leaves him behind to drown in the awkward silence.

Jules denies that he has thrown a book at the door when Ethan leaves, and he will deny it until his dying breath if anyone is to ever ask him. He has better things to worry about, like his _studies,_ instead of the fact that Ethan still treats Jules like he is fire and brimstone instead of just a collection of flesh, bones, organs, and a lot of personality.

He spends the next few hours alone in his room, notebooks spread all over his desk and his laptop with _Safari_ open on his courses’ website and several PDFs as well. One of his textbooks is open on one of the chapters for the final, a mess of purple and blue highlights and a lot of notes on the sides. Sticky notes litter random pages of his books and notebooks and Jules rubs circles on his temple to try and soothe away the growing headache. _‘University is a lot of work,’_ he thinks, then he slowly exhales and he buries his face into his palms.

Ethan pops up unbidden in his head and his thoughts drift over to the past few months. It has been… a bit hectic, thanks to university being leagues different from high-school, but he likes to think that he is adjusting well. The only thing he can’t adjust to yet is the way Ethan shrinks away from him ever since that first encounter, and Jules glares down at his own faint reflection in his laptop screen.

His flatmate keeps trying his hardest to talk to Jules as little as possible, though Ethan still walks home with him after their shared psyche class. They don’t talk much on those walks; they are well into their second semester, and at most they only trade quick, polite pleasantries and then Ethan is pretending that he can’t see Jules every other time after.

He even gets along better with _Adam._ Fucking _Adam._

 _‘This isn’t Adam’s fault,’_ he thinks, _‘but fuck is it annoying.’_ he twirls his pen around in between his fingers, his eyes barely seeing his lecture notes, and Jules groans before he lets his head smack down onto his table. He ruffles his hair then lets out a heavy exhale when he lifts his head up again, and he straightens his hair out with his fingers before he stretches his arms out.

His back cracks audibly and Jules flinches from the sound; maybe getting a massage will do him, he has been getting sore lately thanks to how often he has been spending time hunching over his notes and trying to get everything in order. Yeah, maybe he will do that and he will try and get Adam to get one too. That man has a worse sitting posture than him.

Running his hands through his hair one more time, Jules gets back to cleaning up his class notes and planning his essays before the day is over so that he can sleep early tonight. He gets a brief text from Ethan asking him if he wants any takeout, alongside a note that he will be coming back at ten tonight, and Jules politely declines the takeout then makes a request for him to be quiet because he is going to be waking up early tomorrow.

Ethan doesn’t respond to him, and Jules frowns at his phone. Well, whatever. If Ethan doesn’t want to reply, then it is his prerogative.

He finishes up a fair amount of work before eight-thirty, takes a quick shower, eats dinner, then goes to sleep at nine-thirty. He doesn’t wake up at all until early the next day, with Ethan still sleeping, and Jules tries his best to be quiet while he makes breakfast. He spends half his day studying and the other half watching shitty TV, and Ethan leaves the house after he wakes up so that he can go meet up with Maes and Adam again.

Jules is in the shower when he leaves, so he doesn’t really get to say goodbye to Ethan. He denies, again, ever throwing a book at his front door. He does admit, however, that throwing books at his front door is probably a bad idea.

* * *

The days speed by in a blur, summer is fast approaching and so are the final exams, and Ethan thinks he is floating on air right about now. He has his summer courses ready for after the finals, today is the last time he has a physics lab, and he doesn’t have to deal with his super strict T.A anymore and _God, he knows gratitude better now than he ever has before._

He has already done all of his physics tests and only the finals are left, and thankfully he hasn’t done too poorly on any of them (he is going to ignore the one he has a seventy-one on), and all of his other courses are going… okay. He is passing biology, even if he has struggled with it more than anything else in the entire world, and chemistry is boring but he is passing that too.

The moment his lab is done, he is going to drag Maes and Alexei (who wants to go work at NASA despite looking like part of a biker gang) away for drinks tonight, and he is just going to have a good time. Sure, it isn’t finals month yet and they aren’t done with the course, but fuck he thinks he deserves a break from Sven Vanderhoff.

Maes will _probably_ understand, especially because he actually listens to Ethan whenever he complains about the T.A, and Alexei already hates the man’s guts and will never say no to some whisky or something, so Ethan is set for a good night tonight. He texts Jules very quickly to know that he may come back home drunk tonight, and the only thing he gets is a plain, _‘don’t vomit on my furniture when you come back.’_

Which, fair enough. He doesn’t say anything else to him, even as guilt curls in his stomach, and he taps out of Jules’ contact information before he is sending invitations to go drinking tonight out to Alexei and Maes. Lab is going to start in an hour, with Ethan being at the university for about three hours after his first class, and he can’t wait to be done with today.

All those consecutive weeks stressing out over his in class lab reports, his pre-labs, spilling random shit on himself, and having to deal with faulty equipment will finally come to an end this week, and Ethan genuinely can’t wait.

A few minutes later, Alexei sends him a roaring confirmation and Maes texts him some time before the lab begins that he will gladly join him tonight as the chaperone. He snorts and puts his phone away, puts his lab coat on, and brings out his final pre-lab assignment as well as his flimsy lab manual out ten minutes before class begins.

Alexei is standing next to him within seconds of the door opening, looking ready to murder as always, and Ethan smiles brightly at him. In return, Alexei rolls his eyes.

Tonight is going to be great.

* * *

“I’m so sorry,” Maes apologizes for the fifth time in the last five minutes, and Jules has to count to ten mentally just to keep himself from snapping, “Ethan kinda… drank a lot.” he says sheepishly as he helps Jules guide Ethan onto the sofa while dropping his backpack next to the blushing, drunken idiot.

Jules pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his face with one palm, and he looks over to see Maes twiddling his thumbs. “I’m going to go now,” he says, “goodnight, Jules. It was nice meeting you finally.”

“Yeah,” he says absently, “nice to meet you too. Shame it was because this idiot buffoon is drunk.” Maes just shrugs helplessly then makes his leave, the door closing with a quiet click and Jules glares at Ethan who just looks absolutely out of it. His eyes glazing over and he can’t seem to focus on anything, and he contemplates punching him to see if he will react or not, then shoves the urge down.

Instead, he grabs a glass of water for Ethan, shoves it into his hands, and then sits next to him just to make sure he doesn’t spill it everywhere. His flatmate is quiet, eyes staring off into the TV’s black screen, and Jules bites his lower lip to fight back a groan. At the very least Jules is grateful that Ethan isn’t an angry drunk or a loud drunk; he hates those types of drunks. They always make everything worse without meaning to.

He sits next to Ethan for a while, drowning in utter silence as the other man doesn’t make any movements, and he only ‘wakes up’ when he sways forward and Jules has to catch him so he doesn’t drop the glass. “Oh, fuck,” Ethan manages out, blinking repeatedly a few times, and he looks over at Jules, “oh fuck, I’m drunk.”

“Yes, yes you are.” Jules says and he raises an eyebrow at Ethan, wondering where this is going. He stares into Ethan’s eyes, letting himself marvel over how dark and intense they are as he stares back into Jules’ eyes, and his breath hitches.

Ethan leans close and Jules tenses up. He sets the glass aside onto the coffee table and uses that as an excuse to scoot away a little, and Ethan lets himself fall his side on the sofa. He won’t stop staring at him, though, and Jules fights back a blush from how Ethan’s eyes have gone from dazed to focused within a span of seconds.

“You look just like my flatmate,” Ethan says abruptly, and he is still staring at Jules intensely, “you’re just as pretty as my flatmate.” he blinks rapidly in response. It takes a moment for Ethan’s words to sink in, and Jules doesn’t know whether to punch the idiot or to groan into his palms.

 _‘He is surprisingly coherent for a smashed idiot, even if he can’t remember me.’_ he thinks while trying to ignore the way heat gathers in his cheeks and drags down his throat. He rubs the back of his neck, not looking Ethan in the eyes for a good few moments.

Ethan doesn’t seem to be done speaking, however, as he continues on saying, “he’s so fuckin’ pretty, y’know.” he closes his eyes hard, then opens them only to squint at Jules, as though trying to pick his appearance apart. “Isso hard to talk to him, though. I think he hates me. Do you think he hates me?’

 _‘No I don’t, you fucking idiot!’_ Jules screams internally, but he counts to ten and stays quiet, letting Ethan speak.

It takes him a few seconds to regain himself again, Ethan groaning before he composes himself up as much as his drunken ass can, “I really, really just wanna be friends with him. He’s so… unapproachable, though. I’m outta his league.” he sighs, and Jules opens his mouth, thinking it is his time to tell Ethan to go to bed, only for said man to cut in and say, “if he asked me to, y’know, I’d fuck him.”

Jules’ jaw falls open at the exact same time that Ethan slides off of the sofa and passes the fuck out into a heap on the floor. He stares at the unconscious man, closes his mouth, and then drags Ethan back to his room and unceremoniously throws him onto his bed after removing his shoes.

It is only when he is in his own room does Jules grab a pillow and scream his lungs out into it, then tries his best to go to sleep with his newfound knowledge that he has absolutely _no clue what the fuck to do with._


	5. Year 1 Chapter 5

Ethan doesn’t talk to him about what has happened the night of him being drunk, and Jules thinks it a blessing as much as he does a curse. He doesn’t tell him either and only tells him that that night he babbles on about nothing important and then decides that passing out is a good option, so he does lecture Ethan a little bit on the merit of _maybe controlling how much alcohol he drinks._

The other man has the decency to look embarrassed, and Jules lets him go for the time being because he has a class to go to and he cannot spend the rest of his day giving Ethan dirty looks for getting so damn drunk that he passes out. The moment he steps outside of his flat, however, Jules has to fight back the scream wanting to tear itself out of his throat.

 _Of_ _course he doesn’t fucking remember!_ Of all the damn, unlucky, shitty things to happen to Jules, his flatmate confessing that he really wants to be his friend and then to being sexually attracted to him only to forget is definitely up there on the list. A very, _very_ specific item on the list, but definitely up there now thanks to him being aware of it being a possibility.

He tries to have a good day that day, though he finds it a bit hard to concentrate thanks to the night before. It doesn’t help that he is fucking tired too, which he also blames on Ethan. _God damn it, Ethan._ He can’t stop thinking about the confession last night – _Out of his league. Do you think he hates me? I’d fuck him if he asked._

It is an absolute miracle that his pencil doesn’t snap in half in his grip, but it is getting there. He relaxes when he realizes what abuse he is putting the poor pencil through, and he tries to get the tail-end of the lecture’s notes before he is rushing out of the class faster than usual. He doesn’t stay behind to ask questions like normal and instead he calls Adam up to ask for a favour.

He really, really wants some McDonalds, and the one nearby is always busy and crowded so it will help ease his nerves. Adam sounds confused on the other end, but he agrees to meet up with him at the McDonalds, and Jules looks at his phone with a smile when he remembers that Adam is the best friend a person can an ask for.

 

 

“So,” Adam says after Jules orders for them both, settling in with him in the booth while they wait for their table service, “what’s going on? What happened this time?” he links his fingers together and rests his chin on the bridge of hands he has made, and Jules plays with a stray lock of his own hair as he wonders how to answer him.

He is patient, which helps ease some of the tension off of Jules’ shoulders. He takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, hands coming up to rub at his forehead, and he inhales and exhales deep and slowly for a little while before he decides on an approach. “Ethan thinks I’m hot enough to fuck because he told me this last night.”

Adam stares. He looks outside, leaning a little as if searching for something, then he looks back at Jules. He blinks slowly, like an owl, then squints his eyes. “… _what?_ ”

“He got drunk yesterday, okay?” Jules bursts out and Adam jolts. “Maes – he comes home with Ethan, tells me he’s drunk as fuck, and we both have to drag him to the sofa. Maes leaves, right? So it’s just me and the drunk idiot. He doesn’t do anything to me, before you worry about it.” Adam smiles apologetically. Jules shrugs. “He just sits there, then all of a sudden he starts talking about how he wishes we were friends and shit.

“Barely says much, but he wants to be friends. So, you know, great. The idiot just thinks I’m out of his league, which, okay? I am, but what is the _point?_ The only person in my league is _you,_ Adam. No one else can –” Adam rolls his eyes at him and tilts his head to the side, and Jules huffs. “Okay, I’m getting off track. Anyway, after he says he wants to be friends he just… tells me he’d ‘fuck me’ if ‘I asked’, then passes out, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Adam is quiet for a bit, speaking only to thank the employee arriving with their food, and Jules immediately dives into his fries and chomps on them like a starved dog. Adam gets up to get their drinks – Coca Cola for himself and Iced Nestea for Jules – and then comes back, still looking pensive.

Then, “does he remember it?” Jules shakes his head. Adam hums. “Are you going to bring it up with him?” he shrugs. “… Okay, fair.” he moves the straw around in his cup, looking thoughtful for a few moments longer, then he says, “finals are coming up, so… focus on those for now, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jules scoffs. “I’m not an idiot –”

“No, you’re not, but you’re flustered, and when you’re flustered you won’t focus on what you’re supposed to until you’re told.” Adam says factually and Jules crosses his arms huffily. “Just focus on passing your exams, then you can bitch at Ethan all you want.” he shrugs at the end of that then takes a long sip from his drink, his salad sitting in front of him untouched. “Ethan’s nice, but stupid.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jules says before he reaches for his Oreo McFlurry and plays with the spoon for a little bit before he sighs. “I’ll try not to think about this too much. I just… I guess I just didn’t expect him to say he’d want to fuck me. That’s normal, right?”

Adam gives him the biggest shrug he is capable of and Jules rolls his eyes all the way up to Mars. “Okay, dick cheese. Let’s eat, then go shopping. I need some new books that aren’t shitty, weird romance novels.” Jules says, and Adam snorts in amusement and smirks, before digging into his salad.

* * *

It is surprisingly easy to not focus on that night with drunken Ethan when stress is taking over instead. He has a lot of exams back to back, which means after classes are done he locks himself up in his room and does nothing but study. The only times he leaves his room is to use the bathroom or to cook, and later on Ethan just orders takeout for them both so that they don’t have to go grocery shopping either.

Needless to say, it is an absolutely hectic few, final weeks, and Jules nearly throws his books out of his window when the day is over with Ethan thankfully stopping him from doing something he will regret. Adam is busy celebrating with Rob, because they haven’t talked in a while and Jules knows that he wants to date the oblivious idiot so he leaves him to his devices.

He makes Ethan go out and buy packs of shitty beer for him, because his alcohol tolerance is pitifully weak and beers are enough to make him drunk, and Jules glares at the other every time he tries to stop his drinking. He shies away and lets Jules celebrate on his own now that all of his exams are done and over with, especially visual interaction design – fuck that one. Fuck that one to hell and back.

There is a moment of dread that crawls up his spine after he pops open his third can of beer when he remembers he has signed up for a shit ton of courses for the summer too, and Jules groans. Ethan looks at him with worry clear on his face when Jules goes from celebrating the end of the semester to drowning himself in his sorrow as he realizes he only has two weeks before summer courses begin.

By the time Jules is drunk, there is an army of cans around him and Ethan is nervously picking them up, and that is when he snaps. His arm shoots out and grabs Ethan’s wrist, causing him to drop one of the beer cans, and he looks at Jules with confusion in his eyes. He opens his mouth, but Jules bites at the air and Ethan shuts his pie hole immediately.

“Why are you always so fuckin’ _nervous_ aroun’ me?” Jules slurs out. “I don’ fuckin’ gettit. You’re so fuckin’ anxious an’ shit, like, fuck, I ain’t gonna eat you. Fuck am I, Hannibal Lecter? Calm the fuck down!” he snaps out and Ethan shrinks a little. “I keep thinkin’ ‘bout how to break this fuckin’ tension but y’know what? No clue! No clue. Then you get damn drunk, and tell me y’wanna be friends? Fuck you.”

Ethan’s eyes widen. “Wh-what? You told me I didn’t say anything!” he squawks out indignantly, and he looks around as if trying to figure something out. “Why didn’t you tell me what I did? Oh my _god.”_

Jules, pointedly, ignores what Ethan says, and continues rambling. “God fuckin’ idiot! Make one mistake an’ you just, hide your ass from me. Startin’ ‘morrow, we’re friends. I wake up, you gonna talk to me, and we gonna be _friends._ ” Jules stops and stares off in a daze, his grip on Ethan’s wrist loosening until his hand falls.

“M’gonna sleep now.” is the last thing Jules says before everything goes black.

 

When he wakes up, it is to a piercing headache, to water next to him, and an aspirin pill. He stares at the glass of water with the dawning, creeping horror as he remembers his actions last night, and he almost chokes on the water as he tries to down the pill and he rushes outside to catch Ethan in the kitchen.

They stare at each other, Ethan smiling helplessly at him while he blushes from embarrassment, and Jules just stares at him absolutely aghast.

“Um…” Ethan says after he realizes Jules remembers the last night, his fingers tapping against each other. “… so… I… guess we’re friends now?”

He stumbles over to Ethan, stopping a good distance away from him, and he opens his mouth then closes it. He looks around the kitchen, looks at a tiny, innocuous painting of an apple for a few seconds, then he looks back at Ethan who is gazing hopefully at him. He sighs.

“Well,” Jules says, “guess we’re friends now. No more being anxious around me, you understand? And you have to actually talk to me – and we’re going _shopping_ before summer classes start, so that we can fix your wardrobe, and…” Jules rambles on, listing off the things he is going to do with Ethan now that they are friends.

Ethan smiles widely at him the entire time Jules is talking to him, even as it is clear that he is tuning him out now, and he can’t bring himself to be that annoyed.

Here is to hoping that they have a good second year and that it ends better than how the first year ends.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Pillowfort. ](https://www.pillowfort.social/transistor) | [ Tumblr. ](https://transistories.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/EmptyHeartLover)
> 
> Author's notes for the chapters will come up, soon, on my pillowfort.


End file.
